


when all grows dark

by denouementt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, this is literally just christmas fluff because i needed this concept in my life!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 06:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13118175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denouementt/pseuds/denouementt
Summary: Scorpius’ hand landed on Albus’, cool fingertips rubbing soothing circles in the bone ever so slightly protruding from Albus’ wrist. Scorpius had drawn an art gallery of designs over Albus’ skin the last few years, tattooing invisible patterns and words and thoughts over every inch of him. He was sure there were still some traces of his masterpieces there, could almost feel the ghost of his past brushes as he danced his fingertips over Albus’ veins.or the one where scorpius takes albus on a walk to see the local christmas lights.





	when all grows dark

**Author's Note:**

> as a child I always went around the neighbourhood with my family looking at the christmas lights on houses. I fell in love with the idea of albus and scorpius doing this same; this is just 2k of scorbus fluff - a christmas gift from me to you.
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season (whether you celebrate or not) and I wish you all a prosperous, safe and love-filled new year.
> 
> x hannah 
> 
> tumblr: scorpiusmlafoy

The sky outside Albus’ bedroom window seemed a blank canvas; the colour tainting the usually blue expanse became entirely white, no shades adding depth or clouds as a constant trail of snow fell to the ground. It seemed unlikely that the snow would stop anytime soon, only that the gentle blanket that covered the Potter’s garden would become progressively thicker as the day drew to a close. Through the misty glass decorated with fingerprint portraits of smiling faces and snowflakes Scorpius could see Lily Luna pushing a compacted ball of snow towards the centre of the garden, her little footsteps crushing into the once untouched ground. Harry stood proudly next to one already formed snowball, an unintentionally pear-shaped one which Scorpius assumed would form the base of the snow-wizard they were building. Atop Lily’s head sat a hat scarily similar to the sorting hat, waiting eagerly to be placed on the snow-wizard with a Gryffindor scarf Harry had woven around his neck. Harry seemed truly elated to be stood in the freezing cold, gloved hands eagerly rubbing together as he anticipated the lifting he would have to do to form their snow-wizard; the expression painted over his face made Scorpius’ heart smile, if that was even possible.

“We should out in the snow, Albus,” Scorpius finally decided to speak, voice oozing through the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two. “It looks so fun. There hasn’t been snowfall like this for so long.”

“But the snow is really cold, you know I’m not a fan of the cold. It’s so much nicer being indoors in front of fires and wearing blankets and drinking hot chocolate to keep warm.” Albus’ tongue peeked out from between his damp lips after he spoke. He was intensely focusing on wrapping his present, folding the corners of his wrapping paper so precisely Scorpius was surprised he hadn’t purchased a ruler to help. Albus was awfully proud of the wrapping paper he’d found earlier that week; the ivy background donned a repeating pattern of Quidditch balls hanging from tinsel like decorations. He’d proudly declared that the design imitated the Potter’s own Christmas tree and that it was _genius_ he was matching his gifts to the rest of the house. Scorpius found it rather endearing, actually, and watching him finely tape down the edges before twirling ribbon around to finish his wrapping caused a flutter in his heart.

“It’s also nice to go out in the cold and then come and warm up afterwards with fires and blankets and warm drinks. That’s part of the Christmas experience, babe.” Scorpius finally stood, shuffling over to where Albus sat cross-legged on the floor.

“I just find it so much more relaxing inside. I mean, why go and get damp in the snow when you can admire it from the inside? Also, now you’re over here, help me with this. You can be in charge of tape, please.” Asked Albus, handing the tape dispenser to Scorpius as he indicated to some edges that needed securing.

“You’re just missing out on something wonderful, I think,” Scorpius continued, running his fingers over the edges he’d just taped to check they were pressed firmly down. “Mum, dad and I used to do this thing, I guess it’s a tradition, where we’d go out every Christmas to look at the lights on all the houses.”

“Really?” Albus pried, scrawling a message on a tag before setting the finished gift in the pile he’d accumulated for his parents.

Scorpius nodded. “Little Scorpius wrapped in layers, holding on to mum and dad’s hands as they walked the streets. Everyone in the neighbourhood tended to go very over the top with lights. It’s just something fun I remember doing. Isn’t there that Muggle village near here? We should go out tonight and see if the families have decorated with lights. It’ll be fun.”

Scorpius’ hand landed on Albus’, cool fingertips rubbing soothing circles in the bone ever so slightly protruding from Albus’ wrist. Scorpius had drawn an art gallery of designs over Albus’ skin the last few years, tattooing invisible patterns and words and thoughts over every inch of him. He was sure there were still some traces of his masterpieces there, could almost feel the ghost of his past brushes as he danced his fingertips over Albus’ veins.

“Maybe.”

“Please, Albus. There’s that cute tea shop in the village as well. I’m sure they have a fire and blankets and hot chocolate,” Scorpius knew from the strain in his voice that he was almost begging Albus, trying desperately to pry him out of the protective bubble he’d formed around himself since coming home from Hogwarts. “Memory making and all that. You’re going to need something sweet to put into a Pensieve when you’re older.”

Albus sighed, looking up at Scorpius. His eyes glazed with a shine of happiness and reluctance, almost like looking at Scorpius managed to change his mind about the whole ordeal. “Fine. But I’m wearing your coat because it’s warmer than mine and if I get sick, I’m blaming you.”

Scorpius beamed, cupping his hands over Albus’ cheeks as he pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “Thank you. It’ll be wonderful. You won’t get sick and of course, you look much nicer in that coat anyway.”

“Lies.”

“Not,” Scorpius smiled, sifting through the excess wrapping paper. “I think your mum was making brownies earlier-”

“I knew you were going to bring that up. I’ve been smelling them all afternoon, was just waiting for you to mention going down to have some,” Albus intercepted, holding out a hand for Scorpius as he stood. “Come on, greedy.”

\- ⚡ -

“Mum, _please._ ”

Scorpius snickered, forcing a gentle cough to clear his throat as he aimed to disguise the laughter so he did not upset Albus. There was just something about watching his boyfriend being fixed up like a child by his mum incredibly humorous. The way Ginny fluffed his hair, readjusted his hat and zipped his coat up, including how Albus’ cheeks progressively reddened, made Scorpius chuckle. It was endearing: it was exactly what he’d expect from the Potter family.

“I’m just making sure you’re warm enough, darling,” Ginny assured, gently squeezing Albus’ glove-covered hand. “Oh, look at you. My beautiful baby boy. You look so sweet.”

“Mum, I’m sixteen. I’m really not a baby anymore.” Albus whined, kissing his mum’s hand anyway. He could act nonchalant and embarrassed about his mum’s expressions of love but Albus would never be able to hide how reciprocated the emotion had always been.

“You’re my baby, still. Anyway, off you go. Have fun, don’t get lost. And _please_ for the love of Merlin don’t accidentally set something on fire again.”

“That was a mistake, mum. Please don’t remind me about that,” Albus muttered. “See you later.”

And with that Albus hastily pushed Scorpius out of the door, the silence and chill of the winter air a deep contrast to the bubbling warmth and joy secluded behind the door to the Potter’s house. Scorpius waited, hands buried into his pockets, watching as Albus finished the dainty buttons on the coat that didn’t belong to him and readjusted that hat that wasn’t his own. They glanced to each other, love filling their expressions as they started the walk to the village.

Ottery St Catchpole was a location that used to seem a maze to Scorpius. He did not particularly understand the ins and outs of the place, where the Muggle village ended and the wizarding community began. The empty fields and expanse of woodland frightened him and the lack of towering buildings seemed foreign in his isolated mind. The environment was a scary juxtaposition to the enclosure he had been limited too for the better part of his life to the extent where exploring beyond the boundaries of Albus’ house set Scorpius on edge. However the more he saw and the more he learnt about Ottery St Catchpole the more he fell in love with the rural element that had been hidden from him. The whimsical structures of the houses with thatched roofs and dishevelled white picket fences outlining their perimeter filled his soul with joy.

Around Christmas time things became even more magical. The snow-filled air that decorated the environment with mist and a chill logically should have made everywhere unsettling, sending shivers up everyone’s spines who dared to cross the icy pavements. But the flickering string lights between street lamps and the glow from trees inside the houses illuminated the roads with colourful guides. Each red light dancing alongside a green and a blue filtered between the snowflakes spinning to their endpoint. It was incredibly magical, Scorpius always thought, and he felt incredibly blessed to spend so much of his time here.

“Are you happy?” Albus asked, a gentle stutter in his voice for a physical symptom of his chill.

“I’m very happy,” answered Scorpius, settling one of his hands on the back of Albus’ coat. “I’m always happy when I’m with you, of course, but this just feels perfect, you know? I can almost feel my mum and dad in the air. Somehow like I’m fulfilling a prophecy I didn’t even know existed.”

“Everything you say is just… incredible. I don’t understand how you do it.”

“Do what?” Scorpius asked, using his free hand to dust some stray snowflakes from the visible patch of Albus’ hair.

“Make everything sound so romantic and ideal.” Albus answered, taking the hand settled on his back and wove their fingers together. For a while they had both shied away from these displays of affection, something didn’t sit right within them to express emotions for no reason other than personal fear. Transitioning from close friends to _being_ together had been a peculiar process, Scorpius almost felt dirty holding Albus’ hand, like he was tainting their wonderful friendship. They were both grateful to tackle that hurdle, and Scorpius now couldn’t imagine walking anywhere without having some sort of contact with Albus.

“Look!” Scorpius beamed, gently biting his bottom lip as they came to the top of one of the Muggle roads. The two parallel lines of houses, all embellished with different lights, shone into the darkness of the December evening. “I told you they’re all gorgeous.”

From luminous declarations of ‘Merry Christmas’ to twinkling reindeer, all the houses had different, flashing lights hanging from their window panes. The rainbow-toned Christmas related scenarios cast shadows of colours over the white ground, became the palette of an experimental artist as the faint colours blurred together. Their footsteps crunching the untouched snow sounded like Christmas bells in the otherwise silent street. Santa displayed in every different position, waving, in his sleigh, climbing ladders – all of his possibilities proudly twinkled into the sky. The illuminations brightened their faces, casting a highlight over their shining cheeks while exaggerating the contours of their cheekbones and jaws.

“Isn’t it just amazing, Albus? Don’t you just feel incredibly festive? Snow falling, lights, covered in knitted layers.” Scorpius’ voice oozed happiness, his slightly gruff tone caused by the chill still managing to implore a positive essence to his slightly rhetorical question.

“I feel very festive, actually. I’m freezing down to my bones, but it’s worth it. I really like that one.” Albus’ free hand gestured towards a house two down to where they were standing. Alongside their string lights shaped like icicles hanging from the top of their windows the house had one other noticeable decoration. It was a Christmas tree, created in a rather minimalist style. It looked as though someone had taken a glittering paintbrush and had scribbled a line down the house, going from small at the top of the tree to wider strokes to form the base. The green lights flashed in different patterns, a twinkling to a solid to an alternating bulb setting. The yellow star at the top remained solid, though, and Scorpius could tell why Albus liked it so much.

His face shone like one of the lights. Albus’ lips had curled into a soft smile, small dimples settling into his rosy cheeks. His eyes had squinted slightly, differentiating from the overpowering lights to just focus on the one he wanted to see. Scorpius leaned over slightly, placing a gentle kiss to his cheek before resting his head on Albus’ shoulder. “It’s a very nice one, isn’t it?”

“They’re all really nice. I can see why you like doing this so much,” Albus smiled. “Isn’t it weird, though, how everyone in those houses have different Christmas traditions and have probably decorated for completely different reasons? They all have trees in their windows but will have completely different baubles on them. And then we’re out here, looking at their displays like they intended to make a museum exhibition of them.”

“And you say I’m the one who makes everything sound romantic. You’re such a stud,” Scorpius chuckled, gently tugging on Albus’ hand to encourage their walk to continue. As much as he adored the lights and being in Albus’ presence, even Scorpius would admit that he was freezing slightly and really desired a cup of hot chocolate. “I do agree, though. Two wizards looking at their houses like we have paid to come and see the display. Christmas culture is a weird one, but I love it. Everyone doing different things to ultimately celebrate the same day. It’s crazy, but I love it. Just like I love you and how we’re doing this.”

“I love you.” Albus murmured, lifting their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of Scorpius’ gloveless one. His skin was cold, clearly, as Albus enveloped his hand with his other gloved one, encompassing his pale skin to a layer of warmth and protection.

“Thank you for having me again this year.” Scorpius said.

“Thank you for coming.”

Scorpius smiled, gently pinching Albus’ cheek. “Come on, loverboy. There’s a cup of hot chocolate with our names on it at the end of this road. If we get there in the next five minutes I’ll let you share a slice of cake with me.”

“You always share your cake with me, Scorpius. I don’t believe for a second you wouldn’t let me this time.”

“I know,” Scorpius shrugged, a glint of contentedness shimmering across his pale eyes. “I just like to keep you on your toes.”


End file.
